I nodded, painting her ring finger. “It’s definitely cuter in Lady and the Tramp when the dogs push the meatballs around with their noses and share a spaghetti strand.”
“Exactly! So after we eat, I’ll excuse myself and hit the bathroom. I packed my purse with everything I need.”
I looked up at her. “Everything . . . ? Like what?”
“Like, a mirror in case the one in the bathroom is gone or broken.”
“Oh, right. Because giant mirrors do go missing all of the time.” I grinned. “I should remember that.”
“Lauren!” Khloe wailed, sticking out her bottom lip. “I’m serious! You have to listen to my list and help me in case I’ve forgotten something. You can tease me after my date.”
“You’re totally right. Listening.” I started painting her opposite hand. I realized Khloe was half-kidding and half-serious. Maybe she needed to be overprepared so she wouldn’t be so nervous. If that were true, I understood. “Okay, so you’ve got a mirror. What else?”
“Powder. Girls on dates always excuse themselves to ‘powder their noses’ or something. I’ll do that. Then I’ll use a travel-size toothbrush and tiny toothpaste and brush my teeth.”
I nodded slowly. “Okay. That’s not a bad idea.”
“I’m not sure if I want us to kiss on the first date, but what if I want to and we do?” Khloe asked. Her voice was unusually high and she talked faster than normal. “I want to smell like mint. Minty fresh is how my breath should smell. Do you think I should take mouthwash? I don’t have any travel-size ones. My bottle of Scope won’t fit in my purse and—”
“Khloe,” I said softly. I put down the polish and grasped her upper arms gently. “You don’t need mouthwash. As your bestie and roomie, I’m not letting you leave with a giant bottle of germ-fighting liquid poking out of your purse. You don’t want to look like you tried too hard, you know?” Khloe nodded, taking another breath. “Brushing your teeth will be plenty, I promise. Did you pack more?”
I picked up the polish for a second coat.
“Not too much. Just a Tide stick in case I spill something, two extra lip glosses if I lose one or don’t want to smell like bubble gum or cotton candy, a phone charger in case my battery dies and I need to text you for advice, sticky notes with questions to ask Zack, a pack of Kleenex if I get a runny nose, cough drops, and a mini hairbrush.” Khloe closed her eyes for a second. “Yep, that’s everything.”
I painted the second coat of red onto her last nail, nodding. “You’re definitely very prepared. After dinner, you’re going to the movies, right?”
Khloe nodded. “We didn’t decide on what movie. Should I pick? Or let him? What if I choose something he doesn’t like?”
“Decide together. There are a ton of movies out right now that look good.”
“Together, okay,” Khloe said, almost as if she was trying to memorize my suggestion.
I painted a thin coat of Essie’s No Chips Ahead top coat onto Khloe’s nails so they were glossy in the light. “Look,” I said. “You have awesome nails!”
Khloe held up a hand. “Oh, wow! I got so distracted—I almost forgot you were doing them. I’m sorry, Laur. Thank you—you did an amazing job!”
“Don’t apologize, and you’re welcome.” I got up and brought back the polish bin for Khloe to choose a color for her toes. “You’re going to do great, Khloe. Really. If Zack doesn’t have fun with you, it’s his loss. You’re the coolest girl I know.”
Khloe gave me a wobbly smile. “And you’re the sweetest roommate. You’re helping me feel so much better.”
“And making your nails so much prettier!” I said. “Let’s talk toenail polish.”
I kept Khloe distracted while I did her toes with the royal purple she’d chosen. After I’d finished, we slathered our faces with Freeman’s avocado mask. I’d do my nails later.
“We look like the witch from Wicked,” Khloe said, giggling at our green faces. We let the masks dry, washed them off with warm water, and then Khloe dried her hair. While she straightened her shiny blond locks with the flat iron, I checked my phone. I had a couple of unread BBMs.
Drew:
Had fun 2day. Did u get in trouble w French teacher? I told my math teacher I got sick after lunch & he believed me. I’m such a bad liar, tho! Whew.
Brielle:
Hey, LT! So srry I haven’t written u back in 4ever. School’s been crazy. Nothing new here. Catch up soon! Love u! xx
I responded to Drew first.
Lauren:
Had fun 2! Glad u didn’t get in trouble. Me either. Told Mme. Lafleur the same. We’re not serial skippers, so I think 1x is OK.
Then Brielle.
Totes understand! Maybe we can Skype this wkend? I miss ur face, LOL. Love u 2!
I put down my phone just as Khloe unplugged the flat iron. “Did I miss any spots?” she asked, turning so I could see the back of her head.
“Nope, your hair looks great,” I said. “I never get mine that straight.”
Khloe checked her phone. “Omigod, he’s going to be here in an hour. An hour!”
“Plenty of time for clothes and makeup. We’ve got this!”
I pulled open Khloe’s closet door, motioning like a saleswoman to her outfits. “What’re you thinking?”
Khloe padded over in her slippers. “I want to look casual, but kind of dressy. Ideas? You have the best outfits.”
I smiled. “Thanks, KK. I think you’d look amazing in . . .” I stepped up to her closet, pulling out items and arranging them on her bed. “Skinny black jeans, the silk purple shirt or the clover-green capped-sleeve shirt, a black cardigan in case it’s chilly at the restaurant or the theater, and ballet flats—style and color to be determined upon your choice of shirt.”
“You’re the best,” Khloe said, playing with the ends of her terry-cloth robe belt. “I love the jeans and purple shirt.”
“Yay! That’s what I would have picked for you. The cut’s flattering and I love the faux pearl buttons.” I leaned down and picked up shoes from her closet floor. “These?”
Khloe smiled, looking totally relaxed for the first time all day. “Definitely yes!” I put the black peep-toe flats at the bottom of her bed.
“You’re going to look amazing! The shoes will show off your toenail polish.”
“It’s such a relief to have an outfit picked out,” Khloe said. “I knew you’d know what I should wear, but I was seriously stressing over it.”
“Stress no more. It’s the outfit. So, I was thinking about makeup and wondered if you wanted to do your own or if you wanted me to do it.”
Khloe clasped her hands together, her red nails flashing in the light. “Would you? That would be so cool! But you totally don’t have to either. You’ve done so much for me, and you haven’t gotten to paint your nails yet or even shower.”
“I offered! I’d really love to do your makeup.”
Squealing, Khloe stepped over and hugged me. “Tell me where to sit.”
I directed her to my desk chair, aka “makeup chair,” and started with a dime-size amount of moisturizer. I kept everything simple and let Khloe’s blemish-free, tan skin be as untouched as possible. I applied shimmery caramel eye shadow, a little concealer under her eyes, one coat of brown-black mascara, a dusting of peachy blush, and a shiny coat of Sephora Glossy Gloss in a rosy pink to her lips.
“Done,” I said, handing her a mirror. “Like it?”
Khloe looked into the handheld mirror. “I love it! I look like me and not like I caked on five pounds of makeup.”
Ten minutes later, Khloe was dressed and checking her reflection head to toe in our floor-length mirror.
“How do you feel?” I asked. “Because you look like you’re ready for a date!”
Khloe turned, smiling at me. “Thanks to you, I feel awesome. I don’t feel all sweaty and crazy-nervous anymore. You gave me the royal treatment today. I’m so paying you back—just wait.”
“I’m so glad you feel
good,” I said. “But it’s not a payback thing. You’re my friend and I wanted to do something nice for you. I say you put on your glass slippers, Cinderella, and go meet Prince Zack.”
“Ohmigoshomigosh!” Khloe said, making us both laugh. She put on her shoes, hugged me again, and grabbed her purse.
“This,” Khloe said, reaching into her purse and pulling out a giant Ziploc bag, “is staying here.” She tossed the bag onto her bed. “See you later.”
“Good luck, and BBM me if you need anything!”
Khloe tossed me one last smile and slipped out the door. I looked at the bag she’d left behind—the brush, Tide stick, and everything she’d thought she needed—and put it in her closet. A good feeling settled over me as I got ready to shower. Khloe was going to be more than fine—she’d proved that the second she’d tossed her bag of “necessities.”
24
TELL ME
ALL ABOUT IT
AFTER I GOT OUT OF THE SHOWER AND DRIED my hair, I settled onto my bed with a pile of books. If I could get some homework done now, it would give me more free time to practice with Whisper before the schooling show.
My heart seemed to pound an extra beat when I thought about the show. I pictured riding Whisper in front of judges for our classes. I saw us completing dressage moves and flowing in tandem. Then I imagined us conquering obstacles for the trail-riding class. Maybe opening and closing a gate or crossing a bridge. You’re going to start practicing more tomorrow, I reminded myself. And Khloe agreed to help. I needed to stop making myself nervous.
I got up, wanting tea before I started homework. I slid my feet into flip-flops and bypassed our microwave. Teakettle water was what I wanted. I walked down to the Hawthorne common room, stepping inside. Riley and Clare were under an oversize fleece throw on the couch watching a movie. Clare looked up, smiling. Riley did the same, but there was no warmth behind her smile.
I walked around the counter, glad to have it as a barrier between us, and filled the empty teakettle. I turned the flame on high and pulled down the box of tea with my name on it. Sifting through the teas, I tried to decide what I wanted. Definitely something of the white variety.
“Missed you in French class.”
I jumped, almost dropping a packet of white tea on the floor. Riley moved like a ghost! “Yeah, I wasn’t feeling well.” I kept my gaze on the tea, pretending to be reading the name of every packet, hoping Riley would get the hint and go back to her movie.
“Aw, well, who would feel well after eating so much dessert at The Sweet Shoppe.”
I looked up, my eyes meeting Riley’s. “Is there a rule about dessert that I don’t know about?”
“Of course not,” Riley said, holding my gaze. “But there is one about attending class. I don’t know how you did it—convincing Madame Lafleur to allow you to miss French so you could hang out with Drew. You have to tell me your secret!”
I set my jaw, determined not to let Riley get to me. “If you’re going to tell on me like we’re in second grade, go ahead. I’m sure you have some way to prove I was at The Sweet Shoppe when I should have been in class.”
“I never said that,” Riley said. “I just asked how you managed to skip detention. That’s really hard to do here. Impressive, really.”
The water in the kettle started to boil. “Actually, it’s not anything worth talking about since I’m not doing it again. I’m sure you can figure it out if you want.”
Riley folded her arms. “Smart to keep it to yourself. Not so smart, though, to be wasting free time on Drew Adams.”
The kettle whistled, but I didn’t reach for the dial to turn off the flame. The piercing sound made Riley step back. “Thanks for the advice, but I’ll decide what I do with my free time. Drew’s definitely not a waste of anything.”
I spun the dial, turning off the flame.
Riley sucked in her cheeks. Every angle on her face looked sharper, harsher. “Oh, Lauren. You’re still so new. I just hope you’re able to keep up now that you’ve added a boy to your list of activities.”
This conversation needed to end. Now.
“Thanks for the concern, but I’ve got it.” I poured steaming water in a blue mug, ripped open a packet of white tea with raspberry, and poured in a packet of Splenda. “Enjoy your movie.”
I turned away from the stove, leaving Riley standing there. I shot Clare a quick smile on my way to the door.
“’Night, Lauren,” Riley called. “Just remember that you can’t drop every advanced class when things get tough.”
I almost stopped midstep, anger rising inside me. Riley had hit my sore spot, and she knew it. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to keep walking and not turn around. I stomped down the hallway, trying not to spill my tea, and pushed open my door.
“What is her problem?!” I asked no one. I put my tea on my nightstand and just stood there, rubbing my scalp. She’s jealous about Drew, I told myself. I’d known this, and Khloe and Lex had pointed it out to me. But no matter what was going on with Drew, that didn’t make it okay for Riley to go after me about grades.
I sat on my bed, trying to get my mind clear of Riley and onto homework, but I knew it was useless. A serious vent session was needed.
I dialed Brielle, crossing my fingers that she would be home.
“Laaauren!” she answered.
“B! Hi!” I said. “Omigod, hi! You’re home—yay!”
Brielle laughed and I heard a muffled sound through the phone. It sounded like she’d shut her door. “I’m grounded for tonight,” she said. “So ridic. Mom and Dad got mad about a C that I got in English. A C.”
I made a sympathetic sound. “Sorry. When do you get released from jail?”
“Not until Monday! Monday! I had all of these plans and now I have to stay home all weekend. Mom and Dad totally took the grade way too far. The C was just in homework. Not like it was a midterm grade or something.” Brielle groaned.
“I wish I was there,” I said. “Ana and I would sneak in and hang out with you.” I laughed. “Remember that time you were grounded and Ana and I came inside through the back door? Your mom came into your room and—”
“You dove under my bed and Ana jumped in my closet,” Brielle finished, laughing. “I had to look at my mom with a straight face and tell her she must have heard me talking to myself.”
“At least you get to use your phone,” I said.
“I had to call Tay—” Brielle stopped midword. “Oh, Lauren. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that; it just came out.”
“You can talk about Taylor,” I said. “We’re still friends. Why did you have to call him?”
“He was picking up Ana and me to go to the movies with him and a bunch of people from our class. I had to let him know that his dad could drive right past my house—no movie for me.”
It was a little weird to hear Brielle talk about Taylor. My old friends were going on with their social lives and their activities at Yates. I was still grasping the life-didn’t-stop-because-I-left concept.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t go,” I said. “But I am glad we’re getting to talk. You’ll get your English grade up—no worries.”
“Can I FedEx you my homework sheets for help?” Brielle asked.
“Sure. I’ll add them to the top of my homework mountain,” I teased.
“What’s going on at Canterwood?” Brielle asked. “Anything amazing?”
I smiled. “Yeah, actually. Something really amazing. I cut class for the first time ever today.”
There was silence on the end. “Who are you?” Brielle whispered. “Put the real Lauren Towers on the phone or I’m dialing nine-one-one!”
We giggled. “It was an accident!” I protested. “I was on a lunch . . . date, I think, with a guy. Drew.”
“Laurbell! You’re dating? OMG! Does Ana know? Does Taylor? When did you start seeing this guy? Tell me everything!”
I settled back onto my bed, propping my head against my cushy pillows. “I’m not dati
ng, exactly. His name is Drew Adams and he’s a rider. And a swimmer, too, which is kind of crazy. But he’s not at all tan like Taylor. He’s got this perfect pale skin, black hair that’s kind of medium length and wavy, and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.”
“You have the bluest eyes of all time,” Brielle said.
“He’s got me beat,” I said. “Mine are light blue. His are this intense ocean blue. He’s très cute and he asked me to lunch today.”
“Where?”
I smiled at the thought. I loved telling Brielle about Drew. At home, she’d been my go-to girl for everything boy related. I closed my eyes, pretending for a second that I was on my bed at home and Brielle was minutes away.
“He asked me to The Sweet Shoppe—the café that I sent you and Ana pics of,” I said.
“Oh, right! The blue-and-white place in your Canterwood photo album on FaceSpace.”
“That’s it. He invited me during our lunch period and I had the best time.”
I told Brielle what we’d talked about, how easy the conversation between us had been, and what Drew had ordered for us.
“It almost was poetic that you missed French,” Bri said, laughing. “That’s the sign of a really good guy that he got what you liked.”
“I think so too,” I said. I twisted the drawstring on my plaid orange-and-red pajama shorts. “I struggled with liking him. I had to think a lot about it, and my new friends helped convince me that it was a good idea to let myself like him.”
“What do you mean?” Brielle asked. “Were you sticking to your original no-boys plan to focus on school and riding?”
I took a sip of tea.
“At first. Then it kind of morphed into me feeling guilty about dating. I was with Taylor for five months. I know we had all summer to adjust to breaking up, but it felt, I don’t know.” I paused. “Like I was cheating on him or something.”
“Of course you’re not,” Brielle said. “You guys are friends and he’d want you to be happy. I’m so excited for you and Drew. Remember that you’re not with Taylor, and let yourself like Drew or whoever you want.”
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